


The Swap

by extremelyperturbed



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bodyswap, Comedy, Franklyn abuse, M/M, Silly, bizarre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extremelyperturbed/pseuds/extremelyperturbed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Answers a kinkmeme request for Franklyn & Hannibal to swap bodies.   Mostly played for offbeat comedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Swap

“I want Hannibal’s body,” said Franklyn to Baltimore’s local witch, Meredith Buttercrumb as he sat at her dinner table. 

“Is it a love potion that you are asking for?” said the woman with a soft face and twinkling eyes. “I’ve told you before that the effects of those things are temporary. A week at most, shorter if consummated. And repeated drinking of said potion usually gives you a bad case of the trots, which gets worse the longer you drink it.”

“I don’t want anything temporary. If I can’t win him, can I be him?”

Meredith blinked twice before saying, “Oh, dear, you want a body swap?”

“Yes, absolutely!” Franklyn immediately fantasized about having the cheekbones and the sexy accent.

“I really don’t think you’ve thought this request through.”

“I’ll manage somehow.”

Meredith Buttercrumb sighed. “Since I worship the Lord of Chaos, I can actually fulfill your request. A hundred thousand dollars with a guarantee it will work.”

“A hundred thousand dollars?”

“The Lord has to eat, you know.”

***

Franklyn looked at the flask full of dubious liquid she had given him. It was the night of the full moon and the middle of the night.

The taste was of . . . Franklyn smacked his lips. It was licorice. Not his favorite flavor but it could’ve been far worse. He had been half expecting it to taste of water at the bottom of a dumpster or fish that had fermented for months. He drank the rest of it then went to sleep as she recommended.

All through the night, he had weird visions of floating outside his body and sailing through Baltimore naked. 

***

The next morning, Franklyn woke up and found himself in a strange bed. He immediately threw off his covers and discovered that he had a hairy chest. He ran to the nearest mirror, realized he was naked and that he was in Hannibal’s body.

“Woo hoo!” yelled Franklyn as he looked at Hannibal’s naked body in the mirror. He was pleased not only by the chest hair but that he had a nice package. “Yeah!” Franklyn puffed up his chest, did some muscle men poses and did a half-turn in order to appreciate his-now ass then shook it while slapping it. He jumped up and down and did a happy dance. He did all sorts of things for half an hour.

Franklyn then realized that he had lost Hannibal’s accent. He tried to mimic it but it sounded so fake, he stopped. I will, he thought, simply tell everybody that I decided to acquire and maintain an American accent. He was rather sad about it since he had found it uber sexy.

He walked out to Hannibal’s kitchen naked (mostly because he liked his dangly bits wild and free) and realized that he had acquired none of Hannibal’s culinary skills. That’s OK, he thought. He might have something ready-made in the refrigerator. 

He was about to open the fridge when the phone rang. He picked it up and said, “Hello?”

“Franklyn . . . This is Hannibal Lecter, your psychiatrist. You have my body, I want it back,” said Franklyn’s voice with Hannibal’s accent.

“No, I like this body and I’m going to keep it.”

“Listen to me, Franklyn. You are nothing like me. Everybody will notice.”

“People are shallow,” said Franklyn. “They’ll just take one look at me and accept me as you. I’m you now so you can’t tell me what to do.”

“Franklyn!” 

“You can enjoy being me for now!“ Franklyn hung up on the new inhabitant of his old body.

Things, however, swiftly went downhill from there. It started when Franklyn opened the refrigerator and saw that it contained almost no fruits or vegetables. Instead, it appeared to contained haggis, a sheep’s stomach filled with the animal’s other organs along with oatmeal, spices and other flavorings. Franklyn promptly lost his appetite. Too Paleo for me, he thought, referring to a trendy ‘caveman’ diet. I’ll be sure to throw it away later.

Franklyn decided to check Hannibal’s day planner and found that his psychiatrist had patients from Tuesday to Friday with the last patient of two days being Will Graham. The name was circled, underlined and decorated by several hovering hearts. Franklyn frowned at that. What? Franklyn thought.

Knowing that he had to fake being a psychiatrist, he decided to read Hannibal’s notes about his patients so he could at least fake knowing what they claimed their problems were. He was also curious about what Hannibal thought about him. 

He was furious at the fact that Hannibal only had a page of notes about him, mostly speculation about his possibly sexual relationship with Tobias. “I don’t even rate more than a page!” snarled Franklyn. Other patients often had a half notebook devoted to them, which he had to admit they deserved since many had really horrible problems. But what really made him grind his teeth was the almost infinite number of pages devoted to a paean to Will’s mind. Words like fascinating, unique and infinite darkness dotted his notes. 

Franklyn made a face as he noted pages devoted to recipes he was planning to cook for Will. Omelette Andre Theuriet, Eggs Benedict, Coquilles St. Jacques, and Tournedos Rossini were dishes that Hannibal considered feeding Will. Then there were several more pages devoted to wine pairings. Then there was the drawings of Will, slouching in his chair or leaning against the ladder, smiling or frowning, and with or without . . . his glasses. I think Hannibal likes Will, thought Franklyn.

A semi-evil thought came to Franklyn. I will utterly screw up the relationship Hannibal has with Will!

And that is why Franklyn accepted an invitation by Jack Crawford to go with Will to a crime scene.

***  
Beverly stared at what Franklyn was wearing and said, “Did you just close your eyes and pick something from the closet at random?”

Franklyn bit his lip. He was trying to do something bold like Hannibal would in terms of color combinations but perhaps yellow and purple were not the right colors to try to blend together. “My dry cleaning has been temporarily misplaced . . .”

Jimmy frowned. “What happened to your accent?”

“I decided to get rid of it and speak without it.”

“That’s too bad,” said Beverly. “I liked it.”

Will squinted at him but merely said, “Come with me to the crime scene.”

Franklyn took one look at the dead bodies and promptly had to run out of the room because he felt about to hurl. 

Will said, “Let me drive him to his hotel room. It might be something he ate.”

As Franklyn got into Will’s car, Franklyn didn’t know what to say to him. So he stayed quiet. I don’t get it, thought Franklyn. I just don’t get what Hannibal sees in him. So not cute.

Will came with Franklyn to his hotel room. Once Franklyn stepped into the hotel room, he found himself being thrown unto the bed. Oh, my God, thought Franklyn. “I’m not into that!” he yelled.

“Into what?” said a familiar yet unfamiliar voice.

Franklyn cringed when he saw his former body glaring at him. “Uh, oh no! How did a patient of mine get into my hotel room?”

“Oh, give it up, Franklyn,” said Will. “I know that you and Hannibal swapped bodies.”

“How can you believe . . .”

“Doctor Lecter not only told me certain things I’ve told only him but he drew me a picture. I recognize his style. Not only that but we went to Meredith Buttercrumb and got the whole story.”

“I am glad that you did not give frightful and wrong advice to my patients. God knows what could‘ve happened to them,” said Hannibal. 

Franklyn somehow felt that statement was wrong. 

Will put one handcuff around Franklyn’s wrist then one around one of the wooden slats of the headboard. “OK, drink it,” said Will, turning to Hannibal.

“I thought you had to drink it during the full moon,” said Franklyn.

“That’s only for switching souls into the wrong body and for long-distance. Restoring the natural order and being in the same room makes waiting for the time of highest power to be unnecessary.” Hannibal drank the potion. 

A weird dark cloud that looked like black metallic feathers came pouring out of Franklyn’s body while a sad little soap bubble full of white smoke floated out of Hannibal’s mouth. The representation of their souls returned to their rightful bodies.

Will frowned. “Damn, why do they look so different!”

Hannibal’s body jerked and the familiar voice came out. “It worked.”

Franklyn wept as he realized he was back to being Franklyn and ran out of the hotel room in order to keep his ass from being kicked on the spot. He needn’t have worried as Will and Hannibal had a thing for hanky-panky involving handcuffs.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> The dishes noted are real and named after people. Meredith Buttercrumb is an original character who is not really from any series but her name is a bit of a riff on names from Harry Potter, various BBC series and the real-life Benedict Cumberbatch. 
> 
> I really did consider having Franklyn find a decapitated head or recognizable arm in the refrigerator but it's hard to do that and not have an ending where he gets killed in a gruesome manner.


End file.
